


The Time has Come for Closing Books

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Future, Blowjobs, Canon mental age, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Talk, Don't Like Don't Read, Facials, Five is (body-wise) 16, M/M, Mild come eating, PWP, Post canon, Vague setting, handjobs, mild Dom/Sub, porn without plot/plot what plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 04:50:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18045806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: Klaus is observant, okay? Most people may not see such a fact right away, andsurehe hid it for years under layers of drugs, drugs, and more drugs. But he’sobservant.





	The Time has Come for Closing Books

**Author's Note:**

> did you read the tags?? did you??? did you read them??? do you think you won't like what the tags entail? then please, just hit the back button. not here to debate or defend myself: five is canonically a 58yo man mentally, and that's all i'm gonna say. don't @ me!
> 
> anyway, thanks to hannah for beta'ing!
> 
> enjoy!

Klaus is observant, okay? Most people may not see such a fact right away, and _sure_ he hid it for years under layers of drugs, drugs, and more drugs. But he’s _observant_.

He was the first one, back when they were kids, to pick up on Allison’s and Luther’s little romance. He was the first one to know when Allison was planning to leave. He was the first one to know about Vanya’s book (okay, so maybe that one remains to be verified, but whatever).

(And alright, _maybe_ he found out those first two things from reading Allison’s diary, but he had the intuition to look there, so, observant, right?)

(Whatever.)

The point is, Klaus knows when shit is going down. So that’s how he knows that Five is a pent-up horny mess, having just turned sixteen and being bogged down with hormones, who so graciously put his (ex?) girlfriend in the department store where she belongs, and who desperately needs a… _helping hand_ , if you will.

And because he’s a lovely, kind, caring brother, he decides to help out dearest Number Five in the best way he knows how: seduction.

 

 

Klaus waits until all the other siblings are away for a good long while: Allison and Luther visiting Claire, Vanya touring with her orchestra, Diego in a mood and deciding to sleep at the boxing ring again. Ben makes himself scarce when Klaus asks, although he doesn’t know for certain where his ghostly brother goes.

So he waits till the house is good and empty, and then he makes a hilariously large pitcher of margaritas and takes it up to Five’s room. He’s got a television set up in there now— _does he watch porn on it?_ Klaus wonders—and he’s watching it now. Something educational, narrated by Morgan Freeman, or whatever. Klaus doesn’t really care.

He clears his throat and Five’s eyes land on him in an instant.

“What do you want?” Five snaps.

Klaus puts on his best, most dazzling smile. “I’ve brought you a margarita, sir.” The word rolls off his tongue almost _too_ easily. And Five’s reaction is like a beacon of light: eyes wide, sitting up a little straighter, and a tell-tale tightening in his sweatpants. “Thought you might be thirsty.”

As Klaus waltz into the bedroom, he feels faintly like the star of a bad porno. Something that would be titled, like, _WHILE THE FAMILY’S AWAY, FRATERNAL TWIN BROTHERS WILL PLAY._ If it was a true bad porno, though, he knows inevitably the rest of their siblings would show up, and that’s not a thought he needs right now.

He passes the already-poured margarita to Five once he reaches the bed, then stands and holds the pitcher and extra glass.

‘“Are you gonna have one?” Five asks, suspicious. He eyes his margarita like it’s trying to kill him.

Klaus supposes he can’t blame him. “I wasn’t sure if I was allowed, sir.”

Again, a flash in Five’s eyes, and his dick hardening visibly in his sweatpants. “You’re allowed,” he says, voice low.

Klaus smiles and bats his eyes. “Thank you, sir.” He pours himself a drink of his own and sets the pitcher on the bedside table.

“Sit,” Five says after Klaus has taken a long sip.

Klaus obeys and perches at the edge of the bed. He waits, patiently impatient, for Five to speak. Five seems content to just watch him, sipping at his drink all the while now that he’s deemed it unlikely to murder him. Five drains the heavy margarita glass, plucks the little umbrella from it, and leans over to stick it behind Klaus’ ear.

Klaus can’t help the breathy tone in his voice when he replies, “Thank you, sir,” again.

Five smirks. “Finish your drink.”

Klaus hurries to obey. He never once breaks eye contact as he starts to chug, stomach twisting—with nerves, anticipation, desire. He’s never been all that picky about who he fucks but it’s easy to want to sleep with Five. His sharp tongue, wicked smarts, a mind well-aged like fine wine. All packaged up in a slight baby-face with coiffed hair. It’s too much, frankly.

Klaus lets out a heavy sigh as he finishes his drink and sets the glass on the bedside table as well. “Sir?”

Five sits up slowly. He reaches out and holds Klaus by the chin. His fingers are slim but firm, his nails bite into Klaus’ skin ever so slightly. “You’re going to do whatever I say?”

Klaus nods.

“Let me hear you say it,” Five demands.

“I’m going to do whatever you say, sir.”

Five nods. “Good. Will you give me whatever I want?”

“That’s what I’m here for, sir.” Klaus shivers as Five’s fingertips trail down his throat, the front of his shirt, over his nipples, already hard and poking out against the fabric of his tee. “Whatever you want,” he adds, a little breathy. It’s not entirely intentional, not all just for show. He really feels a little lightheaded, probably from chugging that much tequila so quickly.

Five nods again. “That’s my boy,” he murmurs, and a hot flush runs through Klaus’ body unexpectedly. “Suck me off.”

Klaus nods. Quietly, he mourns the loss of Five’s fingertips as his brother leans back against the headboard. Five waves his hand over his lap, where his cock is staining the front of his sweats with precome, as if to say, _“well?”_

Klaus clambers onto the bed—still a tight twin, since Five decided he didn’t need anything bigger—and scoots down until he can pillow his head against Five’s hip. He pushes up Five’s baggy t-shirt first and kisses the soft skin of his stomach, just above where his sparse treasure trail ends. Five shudders under the touch, but a hand lands in Klaus’ hair and pushes him down.

“Yes, sir,” he says quietly against his brother’s skin. He moves lower and tugs Five’s sweats out of the way as he goes. “No underwear, sir?”

Five wriggles and gets his sweatpants further down his legs. “Shut up,” he commands in a shaking growl. “Suck.”

Klaus obeys, helpfully guided by Five’s hand locked in his curls. Klaus opens his mouth and takes Five’s cock in one careful inch at a time. It’d be easy to just take him entirely, down to the hilt and so the head hits the back of his throat. But he wants to savor this—wants Five to savor it, too.

Klaus moans as Five’s cock slides across his tongue, smearing salty precome along his tastebuds. His own dick is hard and pressed against the mattress and he wants so badly to grind until he comes in his pants. He lets his eyes fall shut as he puts all his focus onto Five, onto the sounds he’s making and how his hips are jumping like he can’t help himself. Each time he pushes a little deeper into Klaus’ mouth, almost enough to make him gag.

Five’s hand tightens in his hair and he yanks; pain like electricity shoots through Klaus’ body and goes straight to his groin.

“That’s it,” Five groans. He’s thrusting now and Klaus lets him, lets Five fuck his mouth desperately. Five yanks him down to meet every thrust and Klaus’ eyes are beginning to water. It’s hardly the biggest dick he’s had in his mouth, but Five moves fast and hard and _god_ he moans so loud. “You take it so good, don’t you? Love sucking my dick, huh?”

Klaus moans, wishes he could say _“yes, sir,”_ just to watch Five blush and moan and to watch his eyes get wide. He can’t, though, so he just sucks and swallows around the dick in his mouth and hopes to god Five will let him come after this.

Five’s thrusts are getting jerky and messy, the tip of his dick sliding across Klaus’ soft palate, precome leaking like a fucking faucet down his throat. Klaus readies himself for the spurt of salt across his tongue, ready to swallow, when Five surprises him.

“I want to come on your face, slut.” Five’s voice shakes a little as he speaks but it’s hardly a turn-off.

Klaus moans and scrambles to pull off Five’s cock. “Yes, sir, _please_.” He gets a hand around Five’s cock and jerks him rapidly. His spit smooths the way and he keeps his face close, licking at the leaking slit and at the underside of the head until Five’s throwing his head back with a _bang_ against the headboard.

Five yanks at his hair again, this time to tilt his face up just a bit, just in time for his come to spill in ropes from the tip of his cock, all across Klaus’ face. Klaus watches, one eye carefully closed, as Five pants and gasps for air and stares at him with glassy, lidded eyes. His orgasm seems almost never ending and Five’s hips jump and smear the come over Klaus’ cheek, his lips, before Five thrusts back into his mouth one last time, a final spurt of come spilling down the back of Klaus’ throat.

Klaus swallows until Five shoves at his head, oversensitive. Klaus sits up and wipes a stray drop of come from his chin and sucks it off his fingertip. Five’s still trying to catch his breath, and he’s watching Klaus looking like he wants to devour him.

“You…” Five trails off.

“Yes, sir?” Klaus asks. His voice comes out in a rasp and he can tell it only makes Five hotter for him.

“Get over here.” Five pats at his lap.

Klaus moves carefully, mindful of Five’s oversensitive prick, and holds himself up on his knees over his brother. “Like this, sir?”

“Good.” Five makes quick work of Klaus’ leggings, tugging them down far enough to hook under his balls before wrapping a hand around his dick. It’s hot but dry, and Klaus is about to tell Five to get some spit or something when Five beats him to it.

Klaus watches his brother lick his palm, something that looks at once a little hilarious and a lot hot on his normally calm-and-collected sibling. Five licks until his hand is shining before wrapping it around Klaus’ cock again and stroking.

“O-oh, _fuck_ , sir,” Klaus gasps out. He thrusts to meet Five’s strokes and he’s hurtling toward his orgasm faster than he cares to admit. It’s been a while (sorta) and this turned out to be so much hotter than Klaus could’ve ever fathomed. What started out as a favor—and truth be told, he fully expected to be turned away originally—is going to fuel Klaus’ fodder fantasies for the foreseeable future.

“You want to come?”

“Yes, sir,” Klaus gasps. He’s hunched forward and he’s so close to Five, who’s staring at him intently. Klaus can’t quite decipher if it’s the same _“I want to devour you”_ stare as before, or if it’s more akin to something like, _“you’re merely a bug under my shoe.”_ Either way, it’s doing it for him. “Please, sir, may I come?”

Five’s lips twist into a smirk and he tightens his hold. He’s a quick study, picking up on what gets Klaus off in no time at all. “You may,” he allows, bringing his other hand up to cup Klaus’ cheek. “And then I’m going to fuck you.”

Klaus chokes on his moan and it takes all his strength not to collapse against Five as he comes. His hips roll in tiny, tight circles as he fucks into Five’s fist. He chases his orgasm desperately, even as the friction becomes too much he keeps going to milk every last sensation from his cock and Five’s hand.

“That’s it,” Five says. It’s almost praise, but not quite.

Klaus eventually comes back to himself, albeit still a bit dazed. He sits back and stares at the front of Five’s shirt, which is splattered in come.

“You made a mess,” Five remarks.

“So did you,” Klaus says with a wave at his face. The come is starting to dry; it’s less than pleasant.

Five raises an eyebrow.

“Sir,” Klaus adds hastily.

Five nods. “I did. I’ll let you clean up eventually.” He holds out his hand to Klaus, the one still littered in excess come. “Clean me up, first.”

Klaus obeys and lavishes his tongue over Five’s hand and fingers until all he can taste is sweat and skin.

Five pats his hip and shifts him to the side. It takes some careful maneuvering on the bed, and mostly Klaus lets Five arrange him how he pleases, to end up how Five apparently wants them. That is, with Klaus on his back and Five between his legs. He’s pulling at Klaus’ leggings with a renewed fervor and Klaus helps him until he can kick them off to some errant corner of the room.

“Sir?” He asks as Five stares down at him, hungry.

“I told you. I’m going to fuck you.”

Klaus blinks back. Okay, on _some_ level, he had thought that was maybe a bit of a heat-of-the-moment thing for Five. He’d also kind of expected that as soon as they’d both come, Five would tell him to get the fuck out and never speak of this again. So far, Five has been full of surprises, and for the first time since walking into the bedroom, Klaus is feeling a little out of his depth. Even so, he sinks against the bed and nods, says—

“Yes, sir.”


End file.
